William Petruzzo

I’m feeling very practical tonight. So, I’m going to share a little trick I came up with a couple of weeks ago which I’m particularly proud of.

I added more ribbons to my bible!

I was motivated to do this primarily by the bible reading plan that I follow. The plan has me in four different parts of the bible at all times. It becomes annoying having to flip through to all four different verses every day. So, to rectify that, first I used four pieces of paper. Of course, that worked, except that I keep my bible by my chair where people often sit in my room. During discussions, people would often reach over and use my bible–which is good. Except, in the process, they’d often lose the bookmarked page–which is annoying.

So, that leads me to this little trick I came up with. Here’s what I used: A plastic bottle (usually free), a spool of ribbon from Walmart ($0.50) and a lighter ($2.00).

Here’s what I did:

1. I used a plastic bottle, and cut a strip out of it. About 1″ x 4″.

2. Then, I drilled four holes in a square shape at the top of the plastic strip.

3. Then, I cut four strips of ribbon about one and a half times of the height of my bible.

4. I tied each ribbon on each of the four holes that were drilled.

5. I used the lighter to just barely melt the ends of each of the ribbons so that they wouldn’t melt.

6. Finally, I slipped on the un-drilled end of the plastic down into the spine of the bible leaving the ribbons hanging out the top.

Now the bible has five ribbons, including the one that it came with. I know this might seem like an awful lot of trouble to go through just for some bookmarks that are attached to the bible, but I can honestly say, they’ve enriched my spiritual life.

…Okay, maybe I won’t go that far, but they have been more convenient that I had first anticipated. Give it a try! It only takes 10 minutes!

While waiting to speak to an advisor at the local college today, I finished John Piper’s The Pleasures of God (review pending). His final chapter dealt with God’s pleasure in concealing himself from the “wise” and revealing himself to “infants”. In this chapter he makes the appeal that wisdom is from God, but we must diligently seek it with our minds.

In responding to large portions of the church that scorn intellectual pursuit of God’s word, he has this to say:

“The manger and the Cross were not sensation. Neither is grammar and syntax. But that is how God has chosen to reveal himself. A poor Jewish peasant and a prepositional phrase have this in common, that they are both human and both ordinary. That the poor peasant was God and the prepositional phrase is the Word of God does not change this fact. Therefore, if God humbled himself to take on human flesh and speak human language, woe to us if we arrogantly presume to ignore the humanity of Christ and the grammar of Scripture.“

Piper is making a powerful argument against sensationalism. The church cannot rationally say, “we just need to focus on Jesus and pray, and worship, yadda yadda yadda,” (which I hear quite a lot) and simultaneously belittle the intellectual pursuit of scripture.

The incarnation of Christ, while spiritually fantastic, was physically near-ordinary. His death on the cross, while spiritually far-reaching, was physically in line with natural humanity. So then, if Jesus chose to come in spiritually profound manners, yet interact and exist in quite ordinary ones, then why should his Word be any different?

God’s Word, while spiritually distinct from all other words, is still God’s condescension onto earth. Much like Christ himself. Spiritually, Jesus washed his disciples feet as a servant here on earth. But, he also did it physically. So is God’s Word. Yes, it is written with the deepest spiritual reality saturating every word, but here in our world, it exists in a very ordinary manner.

So, what’s the point? Although the Word is spiritual, it’s existance is ordinary. And therefore, we interact with it, not only spiritually, but also ordinarily; thinking, asking questions, pulling apart, trying to figure it out. And in that faithful, humble, prayerful persuit, God will answer us and reveal himself to us there.

Revelation 22:1-5:

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.

If the end times prophecies were given as an encouragement and comfort to the church as she endures through hardship, then this passage is the the consummation. When all is said is done and all that is done is finished, Jesus’ servants will see his face at last. That’s powerful imagery.

That is nourishing food to produce spiritual stamina.

A few weeks ago, I posted my reaction to a teaching in church on Colossians 1:15-16:

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.”

What had struck me is this idea that the creator of all things, and the purpose of all things willingly died on behalf of his creation in order to bring them back to him. That is a stunning reality. When you take these verses in Colossians and apply them to the cross, it’s hard not to be take aback.

Well, tonight, during the eleven o’clock Christmas Eve service at church, I was struck with a similar wonder.

Often times when I read words like these in Colossians, the image that goes through my head is of the man-Jesus. The bearded teacher, leading his disciples about, healing the sick and calling sinners to his side and performing astounding miracles. When I think of “the image of the invisible God,” it’s hard not to picture this Jesus. When I think of who “all things” were created for, this is very often the Jesus who enters my mind.

But that wasn’t the entirety of Jesus’ humanity. Yes, indeed, Jesus is the messiah, yes a prophet and a teacher and a miracle worker. Yes, he was the human being who was tempted in the desert after fasting for 40 days. And yes, he was the human being who shed blood–just like ours–on behalf of his people. But what else was he?

He was a baby.

This baby is the image of the invisible God. This baby is the firstborn over all creation. By this baby all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, thrones, dominions, rulers, authorities, all things were created for and through this baby!

This is the God we serve, and this God condescended creation and humbled himself, not only to death–but to birth!

Christmas is an astounding holiday–it’s insanity that we forget it.

Jesus says, during the Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew 5:20:

“For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

While contextually not perfect, part of what’s being said here is, unless our righteousness is operating on a heart level, our righteousness does us no good. The Pharisees, as most of us know, were meticulous in their observance of the law. But Jesus makes it clear that their good deeds were motivated by a heart steeped in pride, self-centeredness and arrogance.

I don’t believe there’s a single person who can’t relate to this plight. We hear Jesus’ words hear in leu of other scripture that ensures our salvation, and these words are easy to breeze over, almost with a, “well, my righteousness does exceed the Pharisees, so I’m good to go.”

Does it?

This seems to be a constant struggle. Jesus’ words hearken to a much more difficult command. Deuteronomy 6:5: “Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”

Ouch. I don’t think I even need to move foreword into Jesus’ expansion on this command, to love your neighbor as yourself, because it seems that this one is a big enough block in the road by itself. The Pharisees got the ritual law down pat. If it’s possible to live a perfectly buckled down life of obedience, the Pharisees had pulled it off. But not because they loved God.

I think, sometimes, that sounds like someone I know. There are all kinds of motives flying around in my head driving me to read my bible, to pray, to be kind to a friend or to help a neighbor. But Jesus is saying to me, “Unless you’re doing these things because you love me, your condition is not better than those who’s hands crucified me.”

Of course it is this law, among many, that Jesus has died to free us from (or in this case, perhaps freed us to). His grace is bigger than this sin, but it is that grace that makes me desire so deeply to fulfill this command and to exceed the Pharisees.

Can we, as a Church, become ones that seek inside ourselves to find the motives of our actions, to allow God to root out sin in our hearts, to root out the places where we’ve failed to give our affections to Him? I would like us to be that Church. I would like to see what God will do when we are that Church. Let’s pray for that.

Something I think that I’m really critical of, at least in my mind, is the church’s general approach to accountability. I rarely see accountability “groups” or “partners” last very long or produce the kinds of results they were hoping for–that is, victory over chronic sin.

After a conversation last night, I think I’ve managed to nail down my grievance with the way most accountability groups work.

If we recognize that in the Christian there are now two natures–Christ’s nature and our old, sinful nature–then we see that in us there are two opposing motives working at pretty much any given time (we can see Paul begin to describe this through Romans 7 and 8). The sanctification process is, by the Spirit, the Christ nature in us winning.

But, most of the time, accountability groups fail to act in light of this spiritual dichotomy in us. In a negative sense, they attempt to beat down the sinful nature, or the sin in particular, inside the person in hopes of therefore achieving victory over the sin.

To make my point clear, I’ll use the example that started the conversation last night.

Lets say there’s two men. One man feels that the Lord wants him to overcome his addiction to smoking. So, he says to his friend– and accountability partner–”I need to quit smoking. Will you please help me to quit smoking?”. The friend of course agrees.

Some time goes by and sooner or later, the man has a lapse in judgment and buys a pack of cigarettes. When his friend sees them in his car, he is very upset at him. He takes the cigarettes, throws them out the window, then threatens something along the lines of, “If I see you have bought cigarettes again, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

The friend’s hope is that fear and shame will cause the man to flee from his addiction to smoking. The friend is attempting to beat down the sin and the sinful nature to achieve victory.

But, this isn’t going to work. It never does.

We don’t have to look far into scripture to see that there were thousands of years of biblical history in which God repeatedly punched Israel in the face for their constant and chronic sins. They always returned to them.

If man’s brutal attack on his sin and sinful nature could have been successful, Jesus would not have needed to die. Man has never, by sheer will power, or fear, been able to truly defeat sin–and where he has overcome the sins of his hands, they took up residence in his heart. Christ must be the solution to our sin both in justification and sanctification.

So, it seems to me that if accountability largely fails as it attempts to attack and beat down sin and the sinful nature, an adjustment is warranted.

Rather than attacking, in a negative sense, the sin and the sinful nature, accountability ought to appeal positively to Christ’s nature in the believer. If a believer is true, then in him exists the will to stop sinning (Matthew 26:41). No only in his hands but also his heart. Accountability groups ought to seek to encourage in the believer Christ’s nature to increase and overtake sin and the sinful nature.

Man has never and will never be able to overcome sin by his flesh, fore “nothing good dwells in the flesh” (Romans 7:18). To overcome sin, it is the work of the Holy Spirit in the believer’s faith in Christ (Colossians 1:27). Accountability groups should be made up primarily of exhortation and encouragement and almost never of rebuke.

After all, encouragement is one of the church’s primary callings to itself.

Therefore, I believe that in committed accountability relationships, encouragement of a believer’s new nature will go vastly farther than any violent attack on sin and the nature that produces it.

Tim Keller writes in The Prodigal God:

“Religious people commonly live very moral lives, but they goal is to get leverage over God, to control him, to put him in a position where they think he owes them something.

I thought this was an interesting quote. Af first, I read it thinking to myself that that was not something that I did. It’s certainly not something I think about. Since becoming a believer, I don’t think I’ve ever done something good with an eye to the blessing that God was “surely” going to be pouring out on me because of it.

But then I starting thinking more critically about the implications of Keller’s statement. In fact, I do suffer from this mindset at times.

There are times when I am tempted to sin and I it causes me to think to myself, “I can’t sin in this way because then God will not bless me in such and such a way.” My thought process is the negative side of Keller’s statement. It’s not the positive, “If I do this good, then God will bless me,” it is the inverted, “If I do this bad, then God will not bless me.” They’re not mutually exclusive. They cannot be.

By thinking to myself that sinning will nullify God’s blessing, I must also be saying the not sinning will guarantee God’s blessing. Or in other words, by my good work of abstaining from sin, I am earning whatever good thing God will surely give to me.

The thinking, in my own mind, elevates me above God as a gracious giver and attempts to put him “in my pocket”.

And, in thinking that God will withhold blessing because of my failure means failing to believe that God is gracious and just in keeping his promises in his Word. Such as: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.” (Ephesians 1:3) Or, this one: “God works for the good of those who love him” (Romans 8:28).

Indeed God works all things for the good of those who love him. Even when he withholds a blessing of one kind, it is because the withholding of one blessing is in itself a greater blessing, because in Christ we have already been blessed with every spiritual blessing!

John Piper has brought God’s words in Isaiah 51:12-13 to my attention. They have some important implications.

“I, I am who comforts you;

   who are you that you are afraid of man who dies,

of the son of man who is made like grass…”

It seems unusual to say that fear is a prideful thing. In fact, to be afraid seems like a humbling thing. But here, God is saying, “I’m the one who comforts you,” or in other words, “you have no need to be afraid of any man”. Then, just following that, he unpacks that a bit and says, “Who do you think you are to be afraid of a man?”

To be afraid of anything other than God is to say to God, “You’re not the one who comforts me… you’re not my defender… you’re not as terrifying as this person.” In saying these things, we elevate people above God. And, between the lines, we say to God, “Although you have shown yourself all powerful and have commanded that I fear you, I believe that I judge better than you in assessing this worldly assailant as more terrible.”

But, what’s more than that, to be afraid of a worldly terror is also to destroy our faith with which to pray. Unless we believe that God is powerful enough to answer our prayers, then we do not pray. When we fear earthy terrors, we fail to believe that God can save us and therefore do not seek refuge in him.

That is pride.

I had to serve on a jury panel today. If you’ve never done it, I don’t recommend you do. It’s long, boring and obnoxiously early in the morning. But, while waiting in the lounge with the other 250-ish other potential jurors I had the chance to talk to a gentlemen, Gary, who’d happened to have actually served on a number of juries in the past.

During our conversation he told a story of a trial he’d served on several years back. The story was so excellent, I decided I had to share it today.

The gist of the case is this. It was graduation night and a group of kids had been doing some drinking and general partying. The time came for them to climb into a few different cars (about four) and an altercation began between people in two of the cars. Being young and stupid though, the altercation quickly escalated to include members of the other cars as well.

Well, needless to say, the trip from point A to point B became aggressive and heated. It wasn’t long before they found themselves in a four or five car pile up. No one was hurt, but due to their conduct, the case was not only civil, but criminal. And, because there were several cars involved in the accident, the case was treated on a per-collision basis. That means they dealt first with the first collision in the pileup, then the second and so on.

Now, if you’re familiar with the court system, you know that almost nothing happens right away. In this case, the trial being divided into several different cases meant that things were going to take a very long time. Somewhere around 3 to 4 years to be exact.

The trial my new friend served on would be one of the last. A few years had gone past since the incident and the trial was still going on. The kids, then 17 and 18 were now pushing 21. What Gary described next was nothing short of the most fantastic sermon illustration.

For the trial, the passengers in the cars were expected to repeat certain obscenities and taunts which were shouted from their vehicles. The kids who’d willingly shouted them now had about three years of adult maturing under their belts and were squirming at such a request. But, unfortunately for them, discomfort wasn’t a good enough reason to keep the judge from demanding their response.

Nearly a dozen young adults crossed the bench, each wearing their regret for acting so foolish on their faces, then moving on in shame.

In James 1:19, James shares this wisdom: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry…” No, this is not the context of James’ instruction, but it’s about as perfect of an explanation as we’re going to get.

Before we speak, we should wait for maturity–whether that be maturity in our thoughts and emotions, or maturity in our life. If we fail that, we’re bound to regret it.

Here’s an interesting little bit of prophecy. Revelation 16:10-11:

The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and its kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues in anguish and cursed the God of heaven for their pain and sores. They did not repent of their deeds.

People often find the book of Revelation frightening. Especially with the warnings about those who are given the mark of the beast. It’s not hard to get caught up in thinking that maybe somehow you might be one of the one’s who gets the mark. Like, it were an accident or something.

But, here in Revelation 16:11, we get a pretty clear picture of who’s getting the mark. The people who will not repent.

Have you sincerely repented of your sins and trusted in Jesus? Then you won’t be getting the mark. God’s grace is bigger than our ability to do the right thing and he will not lose a single one. The saints will definitely persevere, while those who will not repent, even under the excruciating wrath of God, continue to refuse.